


Sheer Wantonness

by orphan_account



Category: 1984 - George Orwell
Genre: M/M, Semi-crackfic, orwell i'm so sorry for this, very ooc because i Cannot Write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 13:40:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17829623
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Just an ordinary session in the Ministry of Love.





	Sheer Wantonness

Winston awoke drowsily to see the looming face of O'Brien above him. As his eyes opened, he heard O'Brien's breath hitch. "Finally, Winston," he said, promptly turning on his heel before walking to the back of the room and taking a seat opposite.

Looking around the room, Winston straightened his posture and cracked his joints into place wearily. Unlike their previous meetings, the room he and O'Brien were in seemed to be occupied by nobody else but the two of them. He let his eyes wander until they found themselves upon O'Brien, who was fiddling with a small remote atop his crossed legs.

O'Brien's gaze landed on Winston, a coy smile presenting itself on his face. He pushed one of the remote's buttons.

Suddenly, Winston felt every inch of his body cry out in pain as a shock ran through him. He closed his eyes and braced his body as he shook feverently. O'Brien's eyes remained firmly planted upon him until the electrical impulse finally stopped.

Winston slowly opened his eyes again, still shaking slightly from the lasting effect of the shock. O'Brien simpered. "Don't look at me like that. I was just checking if it worked, that's all."

Letting out a sigh, Winston stopped shaking, remaining slightly fearful as he looked at O'Brien again. The other man cleared his throat. "Well, then, let's begin," he said. "How are you feeling today?"

Winston shook slightly, furrowing his brows. Talking to O'Brien was like walking through a minefield. Even in the case of opinion questions like the one he had presented, an incorrect answer would still lead to him being shocked. He spoke after a few minutes. "I'm fine."

"Wrong answer."

As the shock ran through his body once more, Winston's cries echoed through the room for a few seconds until O'Brien stopped the impulse prematurely. His face bore a giddy yet sardonic expression. "Don't be stupid, Winston," he said, almost seeming glad that the other man had answered incorrectly. "You are insane. You will never be 'fine' until you love Big Brother."

"...Yes," Winston said, defeatedly. What more could he say?

O'Brien narrowed his eyes, his finger still hovering over the button. He took it away and tucked it under the remote, seemingly satisfied with that answer. "Good." He leaned in slightly, re-adjusting his glasses with his free hand before glaring back at Winston. "We have a lot to get through today,. Big Brother wants you cured as soon as possible."

Winston's muscles tensed. He watched O'Brien reach over from his awkward position on the chair and place the remote on the table nearby him to take hold of a series of papers. Straightening the papers, he let his gaze linger upon the still weakened Winston for a few minutes before casting it down.

The room was silent for a few seconds. Winston struggled to see O'Brien's expression through the cover of the papers. "...What do they say?"

O'Brien leaned over his chair, his gaze still fixed on the papers, and pushed down on the remote for a single second. Winston let out a scream again before flopping into his seat.

The inner party member's gaze flicked upwards to Winston for a few seconds, his face still practically unreadable thanks to the papers covering it. "Don't speak, Winston."

Winston felt the palms of his hands burn from the previous shocks received by him and looked up again to O'Brien. O'Brien was re-adjusting his position, making a small, almost inaudible humming noise to himself as he continued reading. After a few minutes, he placed the papers on his lap, grabbing the remote from besides him. "Ok, let's begin."

Winston remained silent as he looked across the room, preparing himself. He had to concentrate.

O'Brien stiffened, and Winston wondered if the other man really could read his thoughts. "Do not concentrate, Winston," he said, almost smugly. "When you are ready, you will feel the answer truly in yourself. Do you understand?"

Winston sighed. "Yes, I do."

"Good." O'Brien looked directly at Winston, and appeared to gleam when Winston's eyes met his own. "Ok. Which state is Oceania at war with?"

"Eastasia."

O'Brien pushed down on the button in front of him, watching intently as Winston's knees buckled and he let out a cry. A few seconds after, he lifted his finger. "You must say what you believe, Winston," he said, sitting further up on his chair. "Which state is Oceania at war with?"

Squinting his eyes fearfully, Winston gulped. His knees still trembled as though they would give way, and he felt as though even another small shock would cause him to pass out.

O'Brien gave Winston a sympathetic look. "This is for your own good, Winston. Big Brother will save you. Which state is Oceania at war with?"

Avoiding O'Brien's eyes, Winston looked down and braced himself. "Eurasia."

The impulse came again, and Winston honestly wished that the impulse would have caused him to pass out. After the initial few seconds of pain, he opened his eyes just enough to spot O'Brien's crazed, excited expression from the other side of the room.

Winston flinched as O'Brien let go of the remote. He let his head hang low, sweat dripping from his face as he heard the other man's voice. "That is also wrong," O'Brien teased. Winston could tell that he was smiling from the tone of his voice. "You clearly know the truth, Winston. Tell me."

Finally gathering the strength to look up, Winston glimpsed O'Brien's expression of unadulterated joy. He tore up slightly. What was he supposed to say? Was Oceania at war with Eurasia or Eastasia? He couldn't tell anymore. He didn't know. After a tragically long pause, he croaked out his answer.

"Oceania is at war with whoever the party tells us it is at war with."

As soon as he said that, Winston let out a cry, seeing O'Brien's smile widen as he pressed the button again. Winston shook for a few seconds before stopping. Then he shook again, and stopped, and again. Opening his eyes within his pain, he discovered O'Brien, pushing the button and letting go of it multiple times consecutively. His excitement seemed to get even more intense each time he pushed the button. Winston closed his eyes again and clenched his fists.

After what seemed like an eternity, O'Brien finally stopped, and Winston collapsed in upon himself. Heavily panting and shaking, he opened his eyes slightly and peered up to check O'Brien's expression once more.

From what Winston could tell, O'Brien couldn't see him staring up. The Inner Party member sat pushing both of his crossed legs further inwards, biting his lip as he watched Winston quiver. His face had turned a deep shade of red. "Wrong," he said, a certain excitement in his voice. "You don't believe it, Winston."

Suddenly, it dawned on Winston. He sat up, his body still quaking slightly as he stared at O'Brien with a confused expression on his face. "O'Brien, are you...?"

O'Brien carefully turned the sheet at the top of the pile over. He seemed almost like normal now, as if Winston's view of him a few seconds before was just a delusion. His face remained slightly dyed red, however. "Hm? What is it, Winston?" he replied, almost gloating at the other man.

"Are you... getting off on this?"

Winston watched as O'Brien's eyes widened, his smile turning to an uneasy frown. He slammed his hand on the remote in front of him, activating various buttons that did god-knows what but made Winston scream with an indescribable pain for a few seconds. As O'Brien lifted his hand, Winston fixed his expression on the Inner Party member as he sweated profusely from the aftershock of the remote. O'Brien seemed even redder than he was before, his angry and slightly humiliated feelings displayed plainly upon his face. "Just what are you suggesting?!"

Looking at O'Brien, Winston felt a sort of relief. The other man radiated weakness. "It doesn't matter," he said, looking to the side contentedly. O'Brien huffed, ignoring the comment and clearing his throat.

"Either way, that's all we have time for today." he said sulkily.

"I thought we had a lot to get through?"

"Be quiet. Our session is over." O'Brien shifted in his seat again. Even if the other man had the papers atop his lap, Winston could easily tell what O'Brien was hiding with them. Needless to say, both parties didn't - or rather, couldn't - move from their seats. The two men sat in silence for a while, O'Brien occupying himself with reading over the papers once more.

Eventually, Winston piped up. "So... there really are no security cameras in this room."

"Be quiet, Winston."

"That means... whenever I'm asleep... and you're beside me..."

"I said, be quiet, Winston."

"O'Brien, I don't care if you...bat for the other team. It's not like I'm going to tell anyone."

"Winston, please. Shut up."

"...Is your internalised homophobia manifesting itself in torturing different men?"

"GUARDS!"


End file.
